New Paths Lead to Old Faces
by Rivena Verity Vartanian
Summary: Leaving had been the hardest decision of her life, but it had all ended up alright, hadn't it?  She left so that he could find himself again; she hadn't expected that she'd find so much of herself. If only he'd accept her decision.
1. Prologue, Saying Goodbye

Authors Note: Please, understand that while I take the privilege of borrowing from J.K Rowling, that I am not getting anything monetary out of this. I do it to see the characters I fell in love with grow up, as I did while reading about them.

P.S. Some of the facts are the same, while some are a bit twisted. Read it: love it, hate it... Just review.

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_"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal."_  
_-Headstone_

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Breathing became difficult for her at the sight of her childhood home. Hogwarts looked the same; same dark gray stone walls, same cloud touching towers, and the same people she'd grown up with.

The walk up the stone path would have been worse had the man resting his hand on the small of her back not been with her, but that didn't make this any easier.

...

All the memories of the war and death, it had been too much to take; too much to start a new life on. She felt that she had to leave if she ever wanted to make something of herself.

After Ron's death Harry wouldn't let her out of his sight. Shortly after graduation, they bought a house and moved in together. There had never been anything romantic between them, and contrary to popular belief they did not share a bed. It was comforting at first, knowing that he was always going to be there, but it began to be too much. He loved her more than life, but he wasn't in love with her. She knew the way he felt about Ginny. She had felt that she stood in the way of their relationship. He clung to her so hard, that even his romantic feelings for the youngest Weasley weren't enough to keep his attention. Hermione became his priority. He spent every minute of his life keeping her safe. He had even attempted to turn the pages of her book in order to keep the paper from slicing at her fingers.

She felt smothered.

She missed Ron. She had loved him, maybe more than she had let on. He was one of her best friends. He was always able to put a smile on her face, without even trying. He was naturally good humored. But boy did he have a temper. They used to get into some of the biggest, most pointless fights, in the history of Hogwarts. Most of the time they ended with one of them storming off in a fit of anger; either trying not to hex the other into oblivion, or hoping to get away from the hexes. Hermione knew her magic.

She wasn't sure if she would have ever let Ron know just how much he meant to her, wasn't even sure he had meant more than just a fried. But she did know that she would never get the chance to tell him anything ever again, and that it logically made no sense to dwell on what could have been.

She had run, taking everything she owned with her. (A few charms, spells, and incantations were all it took to fit all of her possessions inside a single weightless bag.) She wanted Harry to be happy; wanted to be around when he learned to smile again. But she knew that he was losing himself in the hope of keeping her safe. She knew he had to learn to live; with or without her.

Hermione had spent several weeks planning her escape. She knew she had to be thorough; she couldn't leave any loose ends. If Harry caught wind of something she didn't successfully cover-up she knew he'd grab hold and pull until her entire plan unraveled. Finding a way to slip unnoticed from the house she shared with him would be the hardest part. He had a tendency of waking at all hours of the night to check on her. She'd confronted him about it once, ready to admonish him for being so insensitive about her privacy, but the look in his eyes made her hold her tongue. So she had instead just casually asked him why. He seemed to sink even further into himself at the question, retreating behind the thick walls he'd built around his emotions. She wouldn't give up though, and he eventually told her; he just needed to make sure he was still there.

Throughout the researching phase of her plan, those words kept echoing through her mind. Part of her couldn't believe what she was about to do, the other knew it was his only chance; hers too for that matter.

She didn't leave him without saying goodbye, though she knew she couldn't do it face to face.

_Harry,_

_I love you. You know I do. I'd give my life to keep you safe; don't protest, you know you couldn't stop me if it came down to that. It's been a year since the war, a year since we've lost Ron. We both loved him. We both miss him. I don't think that it's time to move on, that sounds too much like we need to forget. I don't believe that. We should remember him for the rest of our lives. But he wouldn't want you like this. He wouldn't want you so distraught over his death that you forget to live. He would want you to smile, to laugh, and to remember all the good times. We can't change the past, but we do influence the future._

_I didn't want to leave this way; I didn't want to leave at all. But we both know that this isn't getting any better with me around. We both need to relearn what it's like to be happy. _

_I'm not leaving for good, think of this as a vacation. Go to the beach, see the ocean. You used to always talk about apparating around the world. To see what you never had a chance to visit before. I think you should do it. Take Ginny with you, I know she'd love that._

_I don't know where I'm going, and I'm afraid that even if I did I wouldn't tell you. I have to do this on my own, if I'm ever going to find peace again. I need to be on my own, to know that I'm strong enough to go on after this bloody awful war. I don't want you to follow me; I don't want you to find me. I'll be back when I'm ready to return, but not a second before that. You have to let me go, and trust that I'll come back. I promise that I'll come back. _

_If you follow me, I will run. I will hide, and I will fight to keep hidden. Please don't put me in that position. _

_Love with all my heart,  
__Mione _

_

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_

Please keep in mind that this story is a work in progress. There will be times that I go back and tweak chapters that I've already posted, this can't be helped. As time passes in this story so do the facts and sometimes the best way to get everything to co-exist is by changing up the past. I try to keep this at the minimum, but I want to write a good story. A good story will take some editing.

The plot won't change and the important stuff will stay the same, so you don't need to feel like you need to re-read any of it. (Though you're absolutely welcome to if you want.) I just have to make sure that nothing contradicts its self.

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_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
_So how about you spend some time… Please, just review._


	2. Mistakes

_"My friends have made the story of my life. In a thousand ways they have turned my limitations into beautiful privileges and enabled me to walk serene and happy in the shadow cast by my desperation."__  
__- Helen Keller_

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Harry was her world; after Ron's death and her parent's inability to remember her name, she had nothing else. She clung to him, seeking out the truth in the world. Growing up with so much deception had taught her to be wary of how things seemed. She didn't trust people; nothing good had ever come from making friends with strangers.

After leaving; escaping from the flat she shared with Harry in the dead of the night like a convict, she had to find a place to regroup. If anyone had seen her leave, they would have thought she took nothing but her average sized purse and a broom stick.

She knew that Harry wouldn't honor her request, and that as soon as he woke he would start searching for her. She only hoped that he would eventually give up and let her find herself while focusing on remembering what made him who he was.

His letter wasn't the only one she had sent out that night. A quick message to Ginny telling her nothing other than that she was leaving and asking her to take care of Harry, a note to Gringotts requesting that her account be closed and all the remaining assets within be shrunk and sent by post to her through the owl in which the message was received, and a message to the new Head Mistress denying the position as Transfiguration professor and she had said all she felt she needed to before leaving. The first and last letter where sent using Harry's owl. While the one to Gringotts was sent with her own

She cast a Dillusioning spell over herself as soon as she was outside the wards set to protect the dwelling she had shared with Harry. She hated brooms, but knew that she had to use as little magic as possible in order to disappear as cleanly as she hoped she would. Mounting the broom she looked with trepidation at the clear sky above her. There were few clouds and the moon was bright. She would be able to see clearly as she flew, but that didn't make the idea of trusting herself to an enchanted piece of wood any less terrifying. She couldn't waste any time. She had slipped Harry a dreamless sleep potion while they shared dinner earlier, but that didn't mean she had any time to waste; the longer she spent covering her tracks, the better.

She flew north for over an hour. Her back ached from the strain of leaning over and her hands had become numb from her tight grip on the handle. Landing in the middle of a clearing, she almost wanted to kiss the ground with appreciation. Her legs were shaking, having had to use a whole new muscle group than she was used to in order to keep her steady while she flew. She looked around only long enough to find a safe place to stash the broom before apparating away. She knew Harry would find the broom, but he wouldn't find her.

…

Diagon Alley would be too obvious; he'd know that she wanted to be followed. Knocturn alley was better; people tended to look away and pretend to never have seen you, but if the price was right they'd tell anyone anything.

She had determined long before she put her plan into motion that London was too risky. Anywhere in England and she would be too easily found. She had also come to the conclusion that Harry wouldn't let her leave as cleanly as she wanted. He would give up looking eventually, but she had to leave him a trail and make him think that she had stayed in the area. If he was busy looking for her here, then he wouldn't look for her there.

Hermione stepped out of the shadows of Knocktun ally and walked up and down the street looking for a place to rent a room for the night. She removed the charm hiding herself from view and removed her hood. Making eye contact with as many people as she could.

She found a door with a dirty little sign hanging behind a grimy window. Stepping inside she found the owner looking at her with a look of disdain on his face.

"What ya want?" Well, wasn't he eloquent.

"A room." Short and simple, there was no need to explain why, and he wasn't going to ask. The years had taught him that it was sometimes better not to know.

He eyed her up and down, obviously appreciating the view. "A sickle and two galleons a night."

She handed over the money without any protest. It was obviously overpriced, but she didn't want to fight with him.

He showed her to her room, attempting to allow her to go up the stairs first, but after a glance at her wand he decided better of it and led the way. He knew who she was, he'd heard what she'd done, and he wasn't going to risk a nasty hex just because he wanted a glimpse at her ass.

He watched her go in the room and shut the door, and she had a slimy feeling that he was still standing behind it. Listening for the sound of her cloths hitting the floor.

After placing silencing charms on every wall of the room she began to successfully lock herself in the room. There were already anti-apparation spells into the room, so she didn't have to worry about that. It would take Harry several hours to break through the incantations she spent only twenty minutes on.

Harry had given her something that she had never had, a brother. Unlike Ron, she had never felt attracted to him for anything but his friendship. They had their fair share of spats, but they never fought like her and Ron, it was never something petty.

He was her rock, her foundation. He kept her grounded when her thoughts where floating on air. He was the one that would drag her from the library to go to Hogsmead. Ron dragged them from shop to shop, buying quiditch supplied and Honeydukes candy. Harry was the only one who didn't complain when she wanted to go to the bookstore, though he never could hide the eye roll.

Ron kept a smile on both of their faces. He showed them how to have fun in the Wizarding World. Harry understood her need for solitude. She loved them both.

She wished it had been her to perish at the end of Bellatrix's wand.

She'd never bothered to sit her bag down, and as soon as she was finished, she was off again.

…

She hadn't paid a visit to her parents since she had cast the spell on them. She just never managed to convince herself that it was the right time. She knew they'd be angry, and she knew she couldn't deal with it if they wouldn't forgive her. She left them without a child because she believed they were better off. After all, you can't miss what you never had. She needed them to be safe.

Standing across the street of their Australian home she didn't know what to do. She wanted to knock on the door, make up some excuse as to why she was there, just so she could talk to them. But she knew she couldn't do that. She was still unready to remove their memory modification spell and needed Harry to believe she was still nearby. If she spoke to them without removing the spell, Harry would know that it was so she could say goodbye.

She watched them through the window. It was late, almost time for them to go to bed. But they still sat together on the couch, drinking from steaming mugs and reading their own books. Hermione had gotten her love for books from her parents. They used to read together, all of them snuggled down in blankets drinking hot tea. The gentle rustle of paper the only sound as they each turned their page.

Turning away from the window she made her way down the street. Seeing her parents again made her realize the mistake she had made. Wasting so much of the precious time she had with them, hiding because she thought they'd be angry. It seemed ridiculous now. She regretted not taking the spell off as soon as the war was over, but it was too late now.

It was time to leave the country.

* * *

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
_So how about you spend some time… Please, just review._


	3. Why'd It Have To Be You

We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.

- Martin Luther King, Jr.

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Apparating, though less messy and with fewer restrictions than using the Floo, took a lot more energy. Hermione would leave one place and appear in another, only to walk a few blocks and do it again. Sometimes she'd cast a few spells; a drying charm on a nearby bench, a warming charm in a telephone booth, before apparating to another location. She did this several times until the light started to leave the sky, painting the horizon different shades of orange. There was about a ten hour difference in time zones between Australia and her home, and Harry would just now be waking up. She only had one more apparition left to perform, and this would be the hardest she had ever done.

Closing her eyes she focused all of her thoughts into one image. She had never been to her destination before, nor had she been anywhere on that continent. Hermione Granger, a British witch, was running away to America.

She was torn between being excited, terrified, and depressed. She loved knowledge, and knowing about something that others didn't was one of the few joys she still found happiness in. She didn't know anyone who'd been to, or come from America and she had come to think of her disappearance as an educational vacation.

She had spent weeks looking for the best place to go, finally deciding that she wanted to be somewhere small. Somewhere that she wouldn't be recognized. But first, she just needed a place to sleep. And, of course a few alterations to her appearance. First stop, New York.

A faint pop was all that was heard as she disappeared, not to be seen for over three years.

…

The hotel was clean, it wasn't as grand as some that she had read about, but it was much better than the one she had 'fake' spent the night in at Knocturn Alley. She had appeared out of thin air in an empty stall in the bathroom. Clean white marble floors, dark marble counter tops, and shiny metal nobs; the face looking back at her was haunted. Dark blue circles under her eyes, a messy tangle of dark brown hair framing a face that hadn't seen sun in many weeks, and a thin silhouette of a body clothed in grimy cloths were the complete depiction of Hermione. She looked like a street rat.

There wasn't a tub in the public restroom so she settled on a quick Scourgify, it was the best she could do at the moment. She didn't look any better, but at least she was clean. Now all that was left was her disguise. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but she had come to terms with her appearance a long time ago. The nasty scar that ran down from her chest and across her stomach was as much a part of her now as the messy hair she had been born with. It felt sacralidgeous to alter anything about herself, especially seeing as she had already lost so many constants in her life.

Her hair was the only thing to change. She darkened it, just a bit. What had once been a golden hallow of messy tangles was now a dark chocolate mass of ringlets. She looked the same, only different. It's amazing what a new hair style can do for a person. Her hair was one of the main characteristics of her person, and she knew that Harry would never expect her to change it.

Money wasn't a problem for her; at least it wouldn't be once her owl returned from Gringotts. She wasn't worried about Harry following her owl. Goblins weren't interested in the affairs of humans. They took no notice to the way you managed your account, their priority was protecting money. Harry would be unable to follow her owl; the goblins would make sure of that.

The woman at the counter was friendly. She set Hermione up in a single room on the third floor and as soon as the door to her room was shut, she warded the door and fell asleep fully clothed on top of the sheets.

…

"_Hermione, why don't you meet your mother and me at Pedrona's for pizza tonight?" Her father was looking at her with worry in his eyes. He knew something was wrong._

"_Dad, you don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine." She forced a smile for her father. He and her mother were her only ties to the Muggle world; she had all but turned her back on anything that didn't require a wand as soon as she'd received her letter. It wasn't that she thought she was better than those who weren't born with energy in their veins, but she just found her special abilities much more interesting than the mundane lives her parents led. "How about after work, we have dinner at home. I'll cook."_

_Her father eyed her uneasily; she may be good with a wand, but that didn't mean she was good with a pot. "Are you sure you don't want pizza?" _

"_Don't be mean." She laughed at him. She loved how her parents knew her misgivings. Knew what she was good at, and what she needed some practice for. Harry and Ron overlooked what she made mistakes on. They chose to believe she never made mistakes; it was easier in dark times for her friends to believe that she was perfect. If she was always right, then her mental abilities would always be able to pull them out of a bad situation, which she usually had._

"_We'll be home by six, love you." He kissed her forehead and walked out the door, her mother waiting on him in the car. _

"_Love you, Mione." Her mother hollered at her from her rolled down window. _

"_Love you too, mom"_

"_See you tonight." Her dad looked at her with that worried expression on his face again. He knew something was up, but knew better than to ask. His daughter was stubborn. If she wanted to tell him something, she would. If she didn't, there was no point asking her about it._

_She just smiled at him, couldn't bring herself to say it back, and watched them drive off._

…

Hermione woke up with tears pouring down her face. The memory of her last moment with her family often haunted her dreams. That night, after they had returned from work, she had basically ambushed them. Already having packed away her room and redecorated it to look like a study, she took her memory out of their lives. After she left their home that night, it was as if they had never had a daughter.

Leaving Harry had forced her to remember the details of her abandonment of her parents. Packing away her belongings brought back memories that she had suppressed a long time ago. She was extremely grateful that she didn't have to charm Harry to forget her. She didn't think she could go through that again.

The red glow from the alarm showed that it was a little past two in the afternoon, the growl from her stomach let her know that she'd missed breakfast.

Harry had been awake for at least half a day now, she was sure he was desperately searching for her at this exact moment. She knew she had successfully disappeared, that it was nearly impossible that he would ever find her, much less in such short time. She'd covered all her bases, but that didn't mean that there wasn't a slight clench of nerves in her stomach. But for now, she needed a bath and something to eat.

Stepping into the bathroom she stripped out of her cloths and turned on the hot water. Digging through her bag she found a clear bottle of green potion. Pulling the cork out of the top she poured a table spoon amount of mint smelling liquid into the steaming tub. Bubbles started to form, thick and foamy tinted a dark green. The whole room started to smell pleasantly of mint leaves. She could almost taste it in the air, and the tension immediately started to seep from her shoulders, neck, and back.

Lying in the tub, she closed her eyes. She knew she needed to leave again, this city was too big. It was easy to lose yourself in its crowded streets, but that's not what she wanted. There were too many people. After the war, large crowds had a tendency to unnerve her, and all she wanted was some peace and quiet.

Time seemed to pass by without her noticing. She had started out thinking about where to go, but ended up focusing on nothing. It was bliss. There was nothing, not even blackness. She was empty, floating in warm water, surrounded by fresh mint. The world had no meaning, and yet meant everything. This moment was just that, a moment. She had no worries, and wasn't worried about anything. This moment wouldn't last, of course. Once her eyes opened everything came back. The worry, the fear, and the longing. She missed Harry.

Lunch was served on a silver tray, ordered from room service. The sandwich was nothing special, though it should have been. The price was absurd.

She ate in a towel propped up against the head board. What she wouldn't give for a glass of pumpkin juice.

Digging out a pair of Muggle blue jeans and a plain grey T-shirt she went down stairs to check out. The night had been nice, the hotel comfortable, but this wasn't to be her permanent home. It was time to leave.

…

She wasn't sure why she had chosen to come here. It wasn't as if it was on the top of the list when it came to traveling the United States, but it was exactly what she was looking for and it fit into her plan perfectly.

The rolling country side was breath taking. It was late fall and the tree's had become anything but green. Red and gold foliage splotched the road side. The walk would take her over a mile, but she was fit and the fresh air would do her good.

She was lost in thought when she heard the crunch of gravel behind her. Grasping her wand tightly she kept walking. She knew that if it came down to it, she could take on 30 Muggles at the same time and come out victorious, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to keep constant vigilance.

The car slowed down, she could hear the movement of the vehicle come to a stop.

"Need a lift?" She recognized that voice. The way he spoke, and the tone of his voice brought images of ice and silver to her mind, but she couldn't quiet place who.

Turning around, she stared in astonishment at the blue eyed, blond haired man who was staring back at her with the same look of shock in his eyes.

"Malfoy."

* * *

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
_So how about you spend some time… Please, just review._


	4. Suprise

"_You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you do not trust enough"  
-Frank Cran_

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She didn't know what to do. All that time she'd spent planning, all the effort she'd went through to make sure she hadn't been followed. It was an insult, to be found by a ferret.

"Who sent you here?" She was brought out of her silent banter by an ice cold voice and a wand pointed at her chest. "Tell me who sent you."

"Sent me? Bloody hell, nobody sent me anywhere." In the moments that she had berated herself for letting herself be caught by Ferret boy, she had never considered that he would have other motives then to find her.

"Then what the hell are you doing here, Granger?" The ice in his voice was becoming tainted by a thin veil of curiosity, but the wand was still pointed at her chest.

"For merlin's sake, lower your bloody wand before someone sees you. The Muggles will think your stark raving mad." The chance that a Muggle where to stumble onto them out here was next to impossible; but then again, he had stumbled onto her.

The look on his face let her know that he didn't give a flying cat's ass about what the Muggles thought, but he lowered his wand anyway. "Get in."

She was tempted to apparate, as soon as the wand was no longer threatening her. But something told her to do as he said.

Malfoy had disappeared after Dumbledore's murder. Most people believed that he kept himself hulled up at the Malfoy Manor. No one had heard from him since, but then again no one had tried to gain contact.

The truck he drove was comfortable. Red, with tinted windows that where would be next to impossible to see out of at night and a three foot square carpet covered box taking up a third of the back seat.

"What's that?" She couldn't help it if she was curious.

He smirked at her, but made no response. She watched him like a hawk as his fingers moved over the steering wheel and music started to blare through the cab. The box in the back started to vibrate, the base pumping through her entire body.

He didn't talk to her again until they came to a small town, not that she would have been able to hear him say anything. The drive lasting only five minutes. There was a middle aged man and two young children working in a one family vegetable garden at the first house they came to. Hermione didn't know much about the customs of this country, but she was pretty sure that the volume of the music coming from Malfoy's speakers was loud enough to wake the whole town up. She reached towards the dash to turn down the music, but Malfoy pushed her hand away and shook his head. Looking back out the window she noticed that the older man merely looked up and waved at the truck as it passed by, but none of the people seemed to pay any attention to the excessive noise coming from the truck.

Coming to a stop in front of a single story yellow house Malfoy turned off the engine and explained that there was a silencing charm placed on the truck.

"Come on." He got out and led her to the front door, though he never did completely turn his back on her.

Inside the home Hermione found that it was nothing like she had expected, not that she had took the time to expect anything.

She had always thought of Malfoy as a proud Slitherin, and had always assumed that his personal surroundings would be bathed in green and black. Just another reminder that Harry and Ron had been wrong, she was capable of mistakes.

While the living room was nowhere near bright and colorful, it wasn't dark and sinister either. There where pictures lining all the walls, a map hung over the fire place, and several stuffed book cases on each of the walls. She was surprised to see that there was even a Muggle television sitting across a comfortable looking brown leather couch.

"Have a seat." If she hadn't known better, the context of his words would have sounded polite, but the undertone of how he said it was anything but. He was nervous and angry.

"I'd rather you tell me why your smack dab in the middle of a Muggle city, far away from any Pureblood society."

The glare in his eyes instantly turned cold. What had started out as a steaming heat, had turned into a death glare.

"You should watch how you talk, Granger."

"Maybe, but how about you just explain why you're here before I go back to England and explain to everyone that Ferret boy is hiding out in a Muggle town."

He sneered at her then. The smirk she had become accustomed to in school had been replaced by the hardening of his jaw, he looked like his father. "You're not going anywhere until you explain what you're doing here."

"You think you can stop me?"

"You're not as bright as you used to be, expeliarmus." Her wand flew out of the pocket of her jeans and into Malfoy's waiting had.

"Malfoy, you piece of shit, give me my bloody wand back." She went to physically assault him, but another spell from him and she was successfully bound and sitting on the same couch she had moment ago thought of as 'welcoming'.

"Why are you here, Granger?"

"That's none of your damn business."

"It is when you're the first one to find me in a year." Before she could make a remark about how nobody was looking for him he interjected. "I don't want to be found."

"Well there's the first thing we've ever had in common."

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "Finally come to your senses and realize Potter isn't all that good in bed?"

"Shut up Malfoy, you don't know anything about Harry. And had I been inclined to be romantic with him, I'm sure he'd be more of a man, in any aspect of his life, than you are." He let out a short bark of laughter at that comment and her eyes opened at the sound. She hadn't expected him to laugh, curse her maybe, but laugh?

"Why are you here, Granger?" He repeated his question again, but all she did was stair him straight in the eye and equal his glare.

They stayed this way for several minutes, to an outsider it would appear that they had regressed into their childhood and where stuck in a staring contest.

Malfoy was the first to break, he smirk at her and said, "Fine, if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. But you might want to keep in mind that I'm not letting you out until you tell me." He raised an eyebrow at her then and turned to walk away. "I need a shower."

"You wouldn't leave me like this." Her voice was steady, but there was a small amount of fear in it.

"Wouldn't I?" He had stopped moving toward the hallway but had yet to turn back around.

"I ran away."

"You ran away? From what?"

"That's none of your business." Her voice, which had begun to soften, returned to a stern whisper. Harry had become something of a recluse after Ron's death. People thought he just wanted his privacy, few knew of the state he was in and she wasn't going to tell him. She wouldn't give him a reason to cause Harry any more pain.

"Fair enough." He turned around then and stared at her thoughtfully, as though he couldn't make up his mind. "I'll let you go if you make me a promise."

"I'm not promising you anything."

"Shut up and let me finish." He paused briefly to glare at her. "I don't know why you abandoned Potter, and I don't care. But I like it here. And if you go running your big mouth back to England, _people_" He spit this last word out with such force that his meaning was clear, he was hiding from his father. "Don't need to be sticking their noses where they don't belong."

"Unbind me."

"Swear it, Granger. Unbreakable."

"I'm not making a bloody unbreakable vow to you. You'll just have to take my word for it." She was tired of being trapped like an animal on his couch. As soon as he took the binding off of her, he was in for a surprise.

"And what makes you think your word has any meaning to me?"

"You don't trust me, that's just fine. I trust you less. But, I can't go back, not yet. And you don't want to be found. We both have things at stake. I won't tell. I swear."

"If you cross me, Granger, you will regret it." The look in his eyes didn't leave her with any doubt that he would in fact come after her if she ever broke her promise. He didn't say a word but merely waved his hand through the air, she was sure it was more for show than anything else. It was refreshing to know that there was someone else her age who'd mastered wandless magic.

As soon as the spell had released her she stood up. Malfoy hadn't moved, but was extending her wand, handle side out, in her direction. She walked up to him slowly, cautiously. She'd let her guard down once already, she wasn't about to have a repeat.

Reaching out with her left hand she grasped the handle of her wand, with her right she administered a perfect right hook to the side of Ferret Boy's face.

It was good to know she hadn't forgotten all of her Muggle heritage, she still knew how to fight dirty.

* * *

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
_So how about you spend some time… Please, just review._


	5. At Least You're Not a Stranger

_Oh, you.  
You just couldn't let me go, could you?  
This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object.  
You are truly incorruptible, aren't you?  
Huh?  
You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness.  
And I won't kill you because you're just too much fun.  
I think you and I are destined to do this forever._

_-Dark Knight, The Joker (Heath Ledger)_

* * *

His head snapped in the direction her fist pointed it. Blood instantly started to drip from his once perfectly shaped nose, now broken.

He didn't say anything. He slowly turned back to face her. There was no sign of anger on his face, or pain. He just looked at her. He didn't seem surprised, but the look in his eye was still cold, the glare seemed to cut through her. She didn't feel bad, he deserved everything he got. But something in his look, the acceptance of her violence, made her look away.

She watched his feet as he turned away, and heard the snap of a door closing. Assuming that he'd went into the bathroom; she took her time to look around. The photographs on the wall were the most shocking thing in the room. She recognized some of the photographs. There was a picture of Blaise Zabini standing in front of the forbidden forest at Hogwarts. A photo of his mother, folded in half, with a pale arm wrapped around her shoulder. She couldn't see who was in the other half of the photo. There were others that she didn't recognize. A man holding a shot gun, a woman and three children standing in front of a white building, and Malfoy standing next to two men his age dressed in Muggle camouflage. The two men with him where smiling, but Malfoy just stared straight at the camera. Something in his expression seemed different though, the lines where softer. His jaw wasn't set as hard as it was every time he looked at her. His expression wasn't welcoming, he didn't look nice; but he looked comfortable.

She hadn't realized how long she'd been staring at the pictures on his wall. It was like she had been seeing into his life, glimpsing into a part of him that he'd never shown before.

"Like what you see, Granger" She jumped. She hadn't heard the sound of the shower turn off, or his footsteps as he came back into the room.

"I don't like anything that has to do with you." There was a bite in her voice. She knew that she had a chance to leave, that she could have escaped and disappeared while he was in the restroom. But, her curiosity got the best of her; as it usually did.

"Right, which is why your still here." The blood had stopped pouring from his nose and it was cleaned from all the dry blood, but a dark purple bruise had begun to form under both his eyes.

"You gonna fix that?" She couldn't take her eyes off the marred skin of his face.

"Never was any good at that kind of magic." He looked like he wanted to ask her something, but the thin line his lips where set in let her know that he never would. His hair was still wet from his bath, he hadn't bothered to dry it. Having grown longer than when she had last seen him, he had had it pulled back when he picked her up off the side of the road.

"Sit down." He looked at her, his empty stare turned into a glare.

"I don't take orders from …"

"… From a Muddblood." She interjected. Her stare going cold as well.

There was a flash of surprise on his face. "From anyone."

She looked at him, she didn't understand why he would censor his thoughts in his own home. He had never left an opportunity to call her a Muddblood before. "It wasn't an order."

Slowly, he walked toward the couch. Sinking into it, he gazed at her.

"Episkey" She watched as the bruising disappeared from under his eyes, and saw him flinch when the bone knitted back together and popped back into place. "There." She smirked at him, always proud when her magic was successful.

"Thank you." So far, nothing had shocked her, not really. Seeing Malfoy had surprised her, but hearing him thank her? That was something she never thought would happen. It left her speechless and slack jawed.

"You know about flies, Granger?" He looked at her with his trade mark smirk.

She looked at him as though he'd gone crazy, "Flies?"

"Yes, flies. Shut your mouth, or they'll fly in." She closed her mouth with a snap.

They stayed in silence for several minutes. Him sitting, her standing; both staring at each other as if trying to figure the other out. Finally, Malfoy broke the silence. "What's your plan?"

"I don't have a plan."

"You? The resident know-it-all of Hogwarts? The brains of the Golden trio? You expect me to believe you ran from your life, not knowing what you were going to do when you were gone."

She blushed at this, "I don't expect you to believe anything."

"No, I guess you wouldn't. But, it's getting dark. There isn't a hotel in this town, so unless you want to sleep outside, you'd best start being a bit more polite."

She looked out the window at this, he was right. It was late. "I'm a witch, Malfoy. I don't need a roof to stay dry, or a fire to stay warm. I'll manage."

He laughed. She had been shocked when he thanked her, but laughing was another story. Malfoy didn't laugh. He never even smiled. The happiest his face had ever been was a smirk. "I have a spare room. You're welcome to it."

…

There had been no more words between them after he had offered to let her stay the night. She didn't know what to say, and he seemed lost in thought. He showed her to the room, and pointed her in the direction of the bathroom; nodded his head, as if bidding her goodnight, and left her alone.

The room was the same as the one she had first entered, only less personal. There was a queen sized bed against one wall; a dresser and desk opposite and on either side of the door.

Sitting on the bed she placed her bag on the stand next to it, Malfoy had been cleared but that didn't mean she trusted him. She knew that it was bad manners to ward someone else's home without their permission, but believed that Malfoy would do the same in her position. At any case, she didn't care; safety always comes first.

Her night cloths were simple, thin white fabric that modestly covered her body. She was short and thin, with scars that marred most of her porcelain skin. The war had left its mark on everyone, but for her it was literal. Over the years both Bellatrix, and Malfoy Senior, along with a circle of death eaters; had all left their own souvenirs. Sometimes, when it rained, her bones would ache and her joints would seize up.

Grabbing her cloths she made her way to the bathroom. The walk she had endured earlier, while short, was hot and had left her sticky in sweat.

Malfoy's bathroom was perhaps the nicest room in the house, though she hadn't seen them all. A large tub sat in the middle of the room. There were brown, almost back, small square tiles on the floor and the counter was covered in a rich dark red counter top made out of some kind of stone she didn't recognize. Sitting her cloths down next to the sink, she slipped out of her nightgown and grabbed a clean towel off the shelf next to the walk in shower and wrapped it around herself. Drawing her bath, she remembered she had left her bag and her bath potion back in her room.

Looking around for something she could use, she noticed a corked glass bottle three-quarters of the way full containing an amber colored liquid next to the sink. Unstopping it, a gentle smell of cedar woods and fresh pine leaves filled her nostrils. This must be what Malfoy smelled like, she quickly put the cork back into the bottle and set it back down. Smelling Malfoy's bath oil was much more intimate than she wanted to be with him. There was no way she was going to walk around for any amount of time smelling like that Ferret.

She was dirty, and smelled. She needed something to wash herself with, and all she wanted was her own bath potion, specially formulated to take the aches and pains away from her over exhausted body.

Slowly, she opened the door and peered through the crack. Malfoy wasn't in the hallway, so she slipped out and walked quickly made her way to her room. Grabbing her potion out of her bag she turned to retreat back to the bathroom, but stopped in her tracks. Malfoy stood frozen, halfway between the bathroom and his bedroom door. Immediately she became all too aware of the fact that she was standing, only yards away, from a fully clothed Malfoy in only a bath towel.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Who should be worried about flies now, Ferret?"

The gaze that had been travelling down her body in appreciation immediately went to her face. The eyes that had filled with an unrecognizable emotion returned the cold glare she was used to and he stormed back into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Hermione couldn't figure out the look in Malfoy's eyes. The stair was something she had never witnessed from him before, and had made her skin crawl. She had heard of boys undressing girls with their eyes, but they had to find them attractive first. She was nothing but a Muddblood to Malfoy, and her kind was disgusting to him. So why was he staring at her like that?

Pouring the potion into the bath she gingerly climbed in and sunk herself beneath the foam. The tub was obviously enchanted, the water not having cooled at all from being left to sit unoccupied. Again she forgot to think and drifted off, at peace with herself, in the steaming tub. She didn't even care that it belonged to Ferret-Face.

Losing control of her thoughts, losing herself in emptiness, she gently drifted off into a silent sleep. It was the first time in many years that after closing her eyes, she didn't see nightmares of her past, or fears of the future. Her last thought before succumbing to emptiness was, at least he wasn't a stranger.

* * *

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
_So how about you spend some time… Please, just review._


	6. Two Glasses on the Table

"_In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." – __Albert Schweitzer_

* * *

Draco wasn't there when she woke up. The door to his room was left open, and a note stuck to the bathroom door.

_Granger,_

_I have work to do. There's food in the fridge. Try not to burn my house down._

_Malfoy_

_P.S. There are wards placed on my entire house. Use your wand, no one can trace it._

Work? The Malfoy she knew didn't work. He leached off his father and led a life of luxury without ever lifting a finger. In the history of wizards, Malfoy's never worked.

Her stomach let out a growl reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the day before; it was time to inspect the rest of his house. She paused beside the door to his room for a moment, but an electric spark warned her that the door being open didn't mean the room wasn't off-limits. She could break through the wards fairly easily, but she was certain he would know. Bloody git probably had it charmed to alert him if it was being tampered with.

The kitchen came closer to being how she pictured him. The floors were of some type of wood, again she couldn't place it, and the counters where a dark green granite. Grabbing milk out of the fridge she started to dig through the shelves for something she didn't have to cook.

"Miss looks hungry" She almost dropped the bowl she had just removed from the cupboard, swiftly turning around and simultaneously whipping out her wand she pointed it at the creature that spoke to her. The house elf's large eyes grew even bigger as she looked down the tip of the thin piece of wood. "Please Miss, I did not mean to scare. Miss just looks lost. Briar just wants to help."

Hermione slowly lowered her wand. "Malfoy didn't tell me he had a house elf."

At this, the little creature puffed her chest up in indignation. "Briar is more than just a house elf. Briar helped raise Master Draco. "

To say she was shocked to hear this come from the same type of servant that Malfoy's father had been so vile towards would be an understatement. "I'm sorry Briar. I didn't mean to offend. I was just shocked to see you, is all. Malfoy didn't tell me, not that he had to, I suppose."

"Master Draco does not always remember to tell about Briar. Master does not like when Briar works to hard. Briar is hoping that Miss will not tell that Briar has shown himself. Master says I must stay out of sight of visitors."

"If Malfoy said you can't be seen, how is it you do so without punishing yourself?" She hadn't meant to say this out loud, and as soon as the words came out of her mouth she wished she hadn't.

The tiny elf slumped her shoulders and her large eyes drooped. "Briar followed Master when Master left. Master threatened to give cloths" here, the elf paused to shudder, "if Briar did not return. But Briar couldn't. Briar knew that Master needed help, that he couldn't be alone. Briar told master to give Briar cloths. Briar was awfully afraid. Briar is a good house elf, does what is best for Master. Briar told master that if he gave Briar cloths, Briar would still follow Master. Briar would go wherever Master went. Briar would protect Master. Master was angry; he yelled at Briar and threatened Briar even more. But Briar would not budge. Briar was going with Master." The elf stopped here, looking at Hermione as if trying to decide how Hermione would take the idea of her defiance, seeing no snobbery in Hermione's face; he went on.

"Master told Briar that he would let Briar follow. And Briar was happy, happier than Briar has ever been. But then Master told Briar that he could only follow under one condition. And Briar agreed without asking what. Briar would do anything to be with Master, to keep Master safe. Master said that Briar must be Master's friend, and not Master's servant. Or else Master would not tolerate Briar's present. Briar did not know what to say. Briar wanted to do things for Master, Briar wanted to help Master. Briar told this to master and Master said that Briar could help, but that Briar must do as Briar pleases. Briar must be happy too. Master Draco is kind. Master Draco is the best Master Briar has ever known."

Hermione didn't know what to say. First, Malfoy had 'thanked' her. Then, he laughed in front of her and offered his hospitality to her. Now, she found out he cared about his house elf. She didn't know what had happened to Malfoy since she had last seen him, but she did know one thing. He had gone mental.

"Miss is alright?" The house elf brought her out of her thoughts with its gentle voice.

"Yes, I'm alright"

"Miss would like some food? Briar is good at making food. Miss should sit while Briar cooks." The bowl she had been holding disappeared and the elf ushered her out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Only to disappear back into the kitchen where the sound of pots and pans clanging together could be heard.

Moments later Briar was coming back into the room carrying a plate of bacon and eggs, along with a big bowl of blue berry oat meal and a tall glass of pumpkin juice. The food was great, maybe the best thing she'd eaten in a long while but the pumpkin juice reminded her too much of home. It was Harry's favorite drink, and though she would have given anything to have a glass of it the night before, she didn't touch it.

"Miss does not like pumpkin juice?" The squeaky voice came from across the table and Hermione was surprised again to see that the elf was sitting at the table with her.

"I like it alright, it's just…" She didn't know how to go on, didn't know how to explain that in that glass was the memory of all that she left behind. Tears began to well up in her eyes and Briar nodded his head as though he understood.

"Miss will be ok. Briar will get Miss something else to drink." Briar snapped his fingers and the full glass of pumpkin juice drained of the orange liquid and was simultaneously filled with water. "Miss must drink. Briar can see the dehydration in Miss's veins. Miss will get sick if she doesn't drink." Hermione had finished her food and was clutching the glass when Briar snapped his fingers again and disappeared. Hermione heard the sound of the bath running.

"Misses water is ready, and smells nice like mint."

Hermione looked at the elf with confusion on her face. She may not look great in the mornings, but surly she didn't look as though she hadn't bathed. "I took one last night."

"Master Draco says that sometimes baths wash away more than just dirt. Briar is putting music on so Miss can relax." Hermione then noticed that there were tears pouring down her face and that her body was exhausted.

…

Hermione spent an hour in the bath, soaking her body. It was the first time since she had ran that she allowed herself to fully think about what she had done. Before she left, she had thought of nothing but strategy. She knew why she needed to leave, and she mapped out the 'how'. But she had never taken the time to fully think about how she would feel, or what she would do, when she actually left.

Malfoy may be a slimy git, but he wasn't evil. At least, not in the way his father had been evil. Hermione was glad she wasn't alone, regardless of her company.

Briar was right; the bath did make her feel better. It was as if she had washed all her worries down the drain. Standing up and drying off, Hermione found her bag sitting on the counter. Briar must have placed it there before disappearing from the bathroom with a sharp crack.

Digging out clean cloths, she pulled a faded pair of jeans over her thin hips and tugged a shirt over her head. After putting socks and shoes on her feet, Hermione went to see about deciding what to do next.

Hermione didn't see the elf again, though she wished that she could have said goodbye.

Walking on the sidewalk towards the center of town, she looked over her map. The town was small, but not claustrophobic. It took up a decent amount of space on her map; it just didn't have a large population. Her first priority was to find a house.

A noise in the distance brought her attention to the sky. A small dark shape was hurtling its way towards her. Hermione's pulse began to beat faster and she clutched her wand. Harry couldn't have found her. She was about to apparate away when the object began to take shape. Her owl was circling above her. Hermione had told Traz that she when he finally caught up to her, she would be in a Muggle town; and that he would have to be cautious when coming back to her. The owl was smart, and she knew he was checking to see if anyone was watching them. Having decided that it was safe, Traz dived at her and landed softly on her outstretched arm, climbing gently up to her shoulder so as to nuzzle her face. Crookshank had died of old age a month earlier. Traz was the only breathing reminder she had of her home; other than Malfoy, and he hardly counted.

Stroking the brown feathers of her owls back she untied the parcel he was holding out to her. He was right on time. She had enough money to pay for several months of rent hidden in the depths of her bag, but having her entire life savings in her hand set her stomach as ease. The parcel came with a single square piece of parchment that was hardly bigger than her hand and folded length wise in two. There was a one line note written on it along with the balance to her account.  
_'Mr. Harry Potter acquired about your account after we had received your letter, we told him nothing.'  
_Part of the goblins job was to inform the owner of a vault if anyone came looking after their assets. She was thankful that they had managed to transfer all of her money into Muggle currency; not knowing what she would do if they 'forgot'. 

Traz nuzzled her face once more then took off to the sky again, Hermione watched him leave wondering where he was going when she heard a male voice speak to her from off to the side. Having been walking next to a paved road, and paying all her attention to her familiar, she hadn't heard him approach.

"I've managed to get away with not seeing your face in over a year, but now it seems that every which way I turn there you are, hitch hiking." She needed to start paying more attention to what was going on around her. Malfoy hadn't even been behind her this time. The liberties she had started to take after the war, without the constant need to watch her back, were only going to cause her trouble here.

"I'll have you know, I've never hitch hiked a day in my life." She glared at him, but there was no real hate tucked inside her gaze this time. She simply didn't appreciate his insinuation that she was a damsel, especially one in distress.

"Where are you going?"

"Again, Malfoy, none of your business." She didn't really care that he asked, but couldn't figure out why he did. And she had learned a long time ago that when you're in hiding, you never answer a question unless you have to. Regardless of whether or not you think the other person would rat you out.

"No, but you do owe me for last night." He winked at her then, and the chuckling from the passenger side of his vehicle drew her attention to the man sitting next to him. It was one of the men from the picture.

Having caught her eye the man looked at Malfoy and said, "You gonna introduce me to your friend?"

"Her names Granger, we went to school together."

"Granger, huh. What kind of first name is that?" Hermione bristled at that, and was ready to retort when Malfoy cut in.

"Hermione, then."

"Yes, that's better. Draco has a thing with calling people by their last names. Its way to formal for me. I'm Daniel by the way, but my friends call me Danny."

"Hello Danny."

"So you want to be my friend, do you? Say Draco, what does she owe you for last night? She's pretty damn cute and I think I'd like to get to know her a little better." This last question was directed at Malfoy but neither man missed the blush that crept onto her face.

"Shove off Danny. What I did with her was my business, how you go about getting to know her is yours."

"Ok. Ok. Ok. I get it. Draco doesn't talk about anything personal. Right. Wouldn't want to start changing our friendship up, seeing as its been working out so great as it is." After finishing his remark he reached over and punched Malfoy in the shoulder, though there was nothing 'soft' about it, it was obviously friendly. "Need a lift Hermione?"

Before Hermione could response Malfoy cut in, "Seems like you've gotten into the habit of offering up rides to people with my truck. You might want to be careful; I might start charging you for the gas."

"Don't be an ass, Draco. We both know you're too much of a gentleman to let the lady walk." Danny got out of the vehicle and climbed into the backseat. "Come on Hermione, where you going?"

Hermione didn't know exactly where she was going nor was she sure she wanted to get back into that vehicle with Malfoy. But the day was hot and Malfoy knew the town better than she did. It was the logical thing to do. "I'm looking for a house."

"Talk about strange," Danny replied, "Draco did the same thing. Showed up out of the blue looking for a house. Paid in cash too. Used to think he was some kind of mobster. The way he dressed." Danny broke into contagious laughter at the thought of how the Pureblooded Draco Malfoy first donned Muggle cloths. Of course, he didn't know that Malfoy had never actually owned Muggle cloths. And that they were as foreign to him as flying was to a fish. Hermione soon joined in on his laughter, she would have liked to have seen Malfoy's first attempt at fitting in. She was sure it involved a high dollar suit and dark sun glasses.

Malfoy didn't join in on their laughter, but sat brooding in the driver's seat. He never had much liked being poked fun at.

The truck pulled in front of a gas station and Malfoy got out, leaving her alone with Danny.

"So, how long have you known Draco?"

"Since we were eleven."

"Has he always been the same? Everyone around here has grown up together. It's not often we get a new face around, especially one that comes alone. This is one of those places young people tend to move away from, not too."

"You don't look all that old, and you live here." He couldn't have been any older than Malfoy.

"That's true, but I got a bit more going for me here than others. Dad owns a field west of here. We've got a bunch of cattle." He seemed proud of this fact, his face beaming. "Has he always acted as if he has a stick shoved up his ass?" The smile never came off Danny's face, and Hermione knew that he was only half serious.

"He used to be much worse."

"Bet he was a ladies man in that rich public school yall attended. Me, I was always the jokester of my class. But don't let that fool you; I had my fair share of dates." Eyebrows dancing suggestively, he looked at her to confirm his belief.

"Actually, I never did find him very attractive. Especially that one year when he looked unmistakably like a ferret." She couldn't help it, it was too east.

Danny laughed so hard at this that he ended up bent double. He was still at it when Malfoy came back to the truck.

"What did you do to him?" Malfoy looked at her with a glimmer of accusation in his eye. Did he really think she'd had to jinx his friend to get him to laugh that hard?

She smirked when she heard Danny try and piece together a sentence between his laughter. All she could get out of it was the word 'ferret' and knew Malfoy had heard it too when he started to scowl at her.

"You just love that, don't you Granger."

"It was definitely one of your finer moments."

"I may have looked like a ferret for a short time in my life," She wondered how Danny would feel if he knew just how accurate that statement was, "but, you'll always be a beaver to me."

Hermione's hand went unconsciously to her front teeth as she matched Malfoy's glare. Danny seemed to find this amusing as he just laughed harder.

Malfoy handed her a newspaper and started the truck. "What am I supposed to do with this?" She asked him, scanning the headlines as though there was a secret message hidden within the Muggle news.

"Check the classifieds. You want a house, you better start looking."

Malfoy dropped Danny off in front of a cream colored house with green shutters.

"See ya latter Draco. Thanks for the lift." Malfoy rolled his eyes at his friend and turned the truck around.

Hermione was too busy reading through the house adds to pay much attention and merely grunted when Danny told her bye. She had already begun to mark off listings and was narrowing down her possibilities. When Malfoy stopped the truck she wasn't sure what to do when she noticed they were back at his home.

"Get out and come inside." She didn't understand.

"Why'd you bring me back here, Malfoy?"

"You got a phone, Granger?"

"No, what do I need a phone for?" She was more than confused.

"How do you think you're going to get ahold of those people when you decide which house you want?" Realization started to dawn on her. Though she could use magic to track the owners down, her efforts would be far less appreciated among Muggles then they would around Magical-folk.

"You have a phone?" Malfoy only rolled his eyes and went into the house.

Hermione followed him and saw that Briar had set out a plate of sandwiches and two glasses of orange juice, almost as though he'd known she was coming back.

* * *

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
_So how about you spend some time… Please, just review._


	7. Scars

_"Fairy tales do not tell children that dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children that dragons can be killed."  
-G.K. Chesterton_

* * *

Taking the seat at the head of the table; after all, where else would a Malfoy sit? He began eating. He hadn't said anything to her since they'd entered the house. She might as well have not been there, for as much interest he was paying her.

The soft crackle of the fire, roaring in the fireplace, was soft and soothing.

"Malfoy?"

Slowly his eyes rose to her face, half hidden by his long hair. "Yes?" The slow drawl must come natural, he never spoke without it. His father did the same thing.

She had half expected him to ignore her. She hadn't planned out a response for if he didn't. "You eat worse than Ron."

It was funny, kind of. How quickly she could put a scowl on his expressionless face.

"You don't have to be insulting, I've seen him eat. It's enough to cause someone to give up food for a week."

A ghost of a smile alit on her face. She remembered quite well how Ron had a tendency to forget to close his mouth while he chews and to try and stuff more food in before he swallowed. Harry and Ron used to make fun of her for studying while at dinner, but she had just been trying to avoid losing her appetite. "Yes well, Ron did like food. I remember one time; it was in our third year, when he almost ate…" The excited smile that had appeared on her face at the memory slowly faded, and the shadows of her past filled her eyes again. "Sorry, I just… I don't know why I was telling you all that."

She stood to leave the room, not wanting him to see her cry. She'd turned her back on him, the paper held loosely in her hand, and walked towards the front door. "I've taken up enough of your time. Thank you for your hospitality."

She hadn't seen him move, hadn't heard him stand up. She had almost made it to the door when she felt his hand encircle her wrist to pull her back, the soft caress of breath near her neck.

Had she been smitten with this man, it would have made her heart beet faster and her knees grow week. As it was, her heart did start to race, but not with lust. The blood that pumped through her veins was tinged with fear. Draco Malfoy looked an awful lot like Lucius. And he had gone through these same motions with her under some very different circumstances.

..

_She had been on her way to meet Harry in Hogsmead. She had lost track of the time and left the castle late, everyone else having had a good forty-five minute head start. _

_There were no wards between Hogwarts and Hogsmead. No protection. Normally, students traveled in groups. Several of them together, it was an unspoken rule that this is how it was supposed to be. Hermione had almost stayed at the castle, but she had promised to meet Harry and Ron, and they were a bad influence on her. Since it wasn't a spoke rule, she was willing to bend it._

_There was snow on the ground, it was mid-December. Christmas break was right around the corner. She was cold, but not freezing. She'd had the sence to cast a warming charm on her boots, and her mittens._

"_Well, well, well. What have we here. A Muddblood all alone? These are dangerous times Miss Granger, dangerous times indeed." _

_She couldn't see his face, the cloak and mask hiding most of his features. But that voice, that was the voice that would wake her from her dreams in a cold sweat for many years to come. If you didn't know better, it was a beautiful voice, mesmerizing to listen to. _

_She had overheard him, once, talking to his wife when he thought no one was listening. It was during her first trip to Diagon Alley. She could remember thinking 'one day, a man will talk to me that way'. That was before she had learned who he was, long before their paths collided._

_She had run into him, only minutes after she had made that thought. And he had been the first one to call her a Muddblood. The undertones of hate and disgust that lived within his voice where enough to send many people running in fear._

"_What is it you are doing, out here all alone?" She knew that he was looking at her, though she couldn't see his eyes. _

"_Get out of my way, Malfoy." She attempted to get around him but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to stand in front of him._

"_Tsk, Tsk, such a nasty little thing you are." He whipped his hand on his expensive robes as if wiping off dirt. "And without anyone to protect you. Stupid, too."_

"_I don't need anyone to protect me."_

"_Is that so?" She didn't even see him move. With a snap of his wrist, her wand disappeared. It didn't fly to him, she didn't drop it. It simply disappeared. _

_The fear began to build in her. She masked it with anger. "Give me my bloody wand back."_

"_A temper, too. A vile thing, your mouth. You speak to those above you as though you're equal. No, that won't do. Won't do at all. Its high time someone taught you a lesson."_

_There was nothing she could do. She'd attempted to scream, but at another flick of his wrist her mouth had been bound. She'd turned to run, but found that her feet wouldn't budge. _

"_All those books seem to have failed you. Crucio." It wasn't like the descriptions she had read for Defense against the Dark Arts. It was much worse. The pain racked through her body, her veins felt as if the blood had been replaced with molten lava. Her muscles clenched, and her vision closed in on her. He wasn't through with her though, and he removed the curse before she passed out. _

_Breathing hard she landed heavily amidst the snow. Her body continued to spasm, twitching uncontrollably._

_He looked down at her; his eyes as silent and merciless as the Devils. "There are many curses, Miss Granger, that will force a witch to beg for death. But my son tells me you're a know-it-all. He tells me that want to learn everything. Well, let me teach you something."_

_She watched him as he slowly waved his wand over her, powerless to defend herself. He traced the length of her body, starting at her feet and ending it with a flick just short of her throat. "_Leki blóð"

_Again, her body convulsed, but this time not because of a side effect of the curse she'd just went through. There was a searing pain coming from her throat, reaching up she could feel the hot blood seeping through her sweater._

"_Have a nice day, Muddblood." He released the silencing spell from her and disapperated._

_The pain was unbearable, she had meant to scream. To alert someone to her where-a-bouts, but she only managed a moan before succumbing to unconsciousness. _

_She had never been as grateful of Harry and Ron as when she found out it was they who found her lying in the middle of blood red snow. They had been returning to the castle, thinking they were going to have to pull her out of the library. They saved her life._

_It was later, a few days after she had been released from the Hospital Wing, that she was told that Aurors had attempted to arrest Lucius that morning. Someone had tipped them off though, and neither he nor his wife were at the house when the got there. It took them two hours to get through the wards._

_Lucious Malfoy had been visiting his son before going into hiding._

…

She was sobbing. Thick, fat tears pouring out of her eyes and down her face. Her whole body was trembling. She wasn't scared of Draco, but his father was a different story. And she saw the potential in the younger Malfoy's eyes.

Malfoy let go of her wrist as though it had burned him and at the same time there was a sharp 'crack'. Hermione flinched as though afraid that a thousand Death Eaters had apparated into the room.

"Master Draco sir, what makes you scare the poor girl?" Briars squeaky voice was the only sound in the room. "Briar had thought better of young Malfoy."

"I didn't do anything. She went all quiet and then started shaking." Hermione didn't look up at the sound of Malfoy defending himself against the elf. Briar was angry. Though she could tell he respected Malfoy a great deal, it was also obvious that he didn't agree with his treatment of Hermione either.

"Then what makes Miss cry?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask her?" Malfoy sounded exasperated.

The soft pad of bare feet filled Hermione's ears. She had been looking down at the carpet when her view was filled with the pleading face of the House Elf. "Please Miss, tell Briar what's wrong. Briar will make sure Master Draco fixes it."

Hermione didn't know what to say. This house was so strange, inside it her every belief about Malfoy had been proven wrong. His very tiny House Elf was willing defend her against his Master. Briar had even reprimanded Malfoy. And Malfoy had seemed as though he was ashamed that he had made her cry.

"He didn't do anything." The soft glow from the fireplace was casting shadows over her, and Malfoy caught sight of the scar running down from her throat and disappearing into her shirt.

"What happened?" His voice was soft. His eyes where staring straight at the mark. His voice was so smooth, so gentle. And she was so worn out.

"Your father." The words were spoken in a whisper, so soft that he could barely hear her. She didn't miss the look that flashed across his face.

He looked livid.

* * *

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
_So how about you spend some time… Please, just review._


	8. Death To Thine Enemy

_**A Poison Tree**_

_I was angry with my friend;  
__I told my wrath, my wrath did end.  
__I was angry with my foe:  
__I told it not, my wrath did grow._

_And I watered it in fears,  
__Night and morning with my tears:  
__And I sunned it with smiles,  
__And with soft deceitful wiles._

_And it grew both day and night,  
__Till it bore an apple bright.  
__And my foe beheld it shine,  
__And he knew that it was mine._

_And into my garden stole.  
__When the night had veiled the pole;  
__In the morning glad I see,  
__My foe outstretched beneath the tree._

_-William Blake_

* * *

"When did it happen?" His voice was still hard, but there was an undertone of concern.

Staring straight into his eyes, "The night he disappeared. I was on my way to Hogsmead."

"Why?"

"Why did he do it?" She didn't understand. Being who she was, she thought he'd know why.

"No, why were you alone?" He was concerned, about her?

"I had lost track of the time."

"Where were your friends?" She didn't know why he cared, but she didn't like that he was insinuating that they had let this happen to her.

"Your father did this to me, it wasn't their fault he's such a bastard." She didn't care that he was on her side. She didn't care that he was just looking at what was in her best interest. No one was going to talk about Harry and Ron as if they had ever done anything wrong by her. They had torn themselves up enough over it.

"If I had been there…"

"If you'd been there, what? Feeling like you missed out on torturing me? Wish you would have gotten your own chance at me?"

She expected him to sneer at her. To get angry and tell her she was right. Or at the most, tell her she had no place talking to him like that and force her to leave his home.

She hadn't expected his face to fall. She had never seen him look so sad. His eyes had glossed over, and while he didn't look like he was going to cry. He looked like he wanted to. "I would have protected you."

She was stunned. This new Malfoy was too much. She wanted him to scowl at her, to insult her, and to put her down. She didn't know how to act when he was being nice.

"Malfoy, why…"

He cut her off again. "Draco."

"What?"

"My names Draco."

"Oh, well yes. I suppose it is. But, your not… I mean, that is to say…" She was flustered. He wanted her to call him by his first name. She had never done that before. He had always been Malfoy to her, ever since they were eleven.

"Say it." He was looking at her with such desperation in his eyes that she couldn't refuse.

"Draco."

"Well, uhm. Master Draco, Briar is going to go now. I is sorry that Briar jumps to conclusion about Miss. Master Draco, Briar hopes that Briar did not offend." The silence was broken by the elf's soft, squeaky voice.

"No, Briar. Everything's fine, you did nothing wrong." The elf's shoulders relaxed and a small smile returned to its face. 

"Thank you Master Draco, Briar will go now." With a crack, the elf disappeared.

"Come have a seat." Draco led the way to the couch and sat at one end. Hermione sat on the other, with plenty of space between them.

They were silent for a long time, Draco stared into the fire. As though looking to it for answers. Every few minutes Hermione would nervously glance toward Draco; wanting desperately to break the silence, but not knowing what to say.

It seemed like ages before he began to speak, his voice soft and calm.

"What I was, to you. To everyone. None of that was fake. It is as much me now as anything ever was. But that doesn't mean that I haven't changed. I see what I used to turn my nose up at; and all I can think is what I've been missing out on."

Throughout his entire speech, he had not looked at her. Turning so that she could face him clearly, her legs pulled comfortably up onto the couch, she replied. "You're different. I don't know what to make of it. But I've noticed it since the first time I got in your truck. You're just as nasty," He flinched when she said that, but she just smiled and continued. "But it's not as mean anymore." She couldn't stand that he wouldn't look at her. "Draco?"

He turned from the fire to look at her, the same look of regret in his eyes.

"My father wasn't a nice man. I didn't have a pleasant childhood. I acted the way I thought I was supposed to. All I wanted was to make him proud. After he…" He faltered here; it was obvious he had never said this to anyone before. "Well, once I figured out who he really was." He paused again, watching the expression on her face. He was so careful to protect himself, he always had been. He'd never just said something, without fully thinking it out. "Don't get me wrong, I knew what I said hurt people, but it took me many years to figure out that that wasn't the way things were supposed to be. That you didn't have to hurt someone to be happy. That being purebred didn't make you better. That night before he'd disappeared. He came to tell me, to give me orders for when he was gone. He wanted me to join Voldemort. He wanted me to take his place by his side. That was the first night I ever stood up to my father. I told I didn't want to. I told him I didn't want to be a slave." Tears were flowing freely from Draco's eyes. It was the first time he had ever cried. "He told me that if I didn't, he'd come back. That he'd kill me before he let me disgrace the family name. He crucio'd me until I swore I'd take the mark. He hurt you, because I'd made him angry. He hurt you because of me."

Moving closer to him, she placed her hand timidly on his knee.

"Draco, your father hated me. That wasn't your fault. He would have hurt me even if he hadn't had that conversation with you."

He didn't say anything, but he broke eye contact with her. Instead, looking down into his lap.

She could see the tears still falling down his face, she could almost feel all the pent up sadness in his heart. Living here, surrounded by Muggles, she knew he hadn't had anyone to talk to. There was no one around to relate.

Wrapping her slender arm around his shoulders she asked him, "Did you take the mark?"

He didn't speak at first. He sat there, allowing her to comfort him. Reaching with his right hand to the cuff of his shirt, he pulled it up to his elbow. She could see the pearlescent scar. The faint lines of the Dark Mark. "The first time Danny saw it, he thought I'd had a tattoo removed. I'd agreed, I didn't know what else to do. It took me forever to figure out what that was." A ghost of a smile traveled across his face. "He thought it was cool."

Hermione reached with her left hand to touch the skin of his forearm. She had thought that it would be a different temperature than the rest of him. Cold as ice, or burning hot; but it was neither. It was the same as every other part, only marred.

"After Voldemorts defeat, it began to burn. It hurt so bad that I'd passed out before I even knew what was going on. When I woke up, all that was on my arm was this scar. I took it, but not for what my father said. I took it, and then I went to Dumbledore. After Snape's Death, I was the only spy the Order had."

"That explains a little." It was all she could think to say.

He laughed. The sound caused her to jump, and she pulled her arm away from him, wrapping them around herself as though in protection.

He looked at her with a smile on his face, "I'd say it explains a lot?"

"Yes, well. It explains why you acted so awful in school." The smile that had momentarily softened his features disappeared from his face; she was instantly sorry she'd said anything.

"I'd say I was sorry if I thought it would make a difference."

"Maybe it would."

"I'm sorry." And with that, his lips crashed to hers. It wasn't soft and timid, like her first kiss with Victor had been. It wasn't sloppy and full of lust like the kisses she and Ron used to share. It was passionate and out of control. It was full of so many emotions that she forgot to breath. It held the memories of their past, and a promise of the future.

She sat frozen at first, shocked by the feel of his mouth on hers. It took her a few seconds to respond.

When she did she began to pull at him, begging him to get closer to her. She needed to fill him next to her.

They pulled at each other, trying desperately to get as close as possible. There was no distance between them, but they still weren't close enough.

She felt him lift the hem of her shirt, slipping his hand up her side. He didn't attempt to grope her; he merely placed it on her waste and pulled her closer to him.

They broke the kiss, gasping for breath.

"Well, this changes things." He said it, with such seriousness, that she couldn't help it. She broke into giggles.

"Yes, I'd say it does."

* * *

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
_So how about you spend some time… Please, just review._


	9. Growing Comfortable

"I went to the Woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." -Henry David Thoreau Walden, 1854

* * *

It had been three weeks since they had kissed, but neither knew how to broach the subject of the change in their relationship. Hermione had given up on her attempt to find her own home, and Draco hadn't said anything about their being a time limit to her stay.

Housing no longer being an issue, Hermione focused her attention on finding a job. She had plenty of money to last her several years, but that didn't mean she was going to waste it when she could be out making more.

Draco had curiously pointed her in the direction of a library down the road from his home. It was a fair amount of distance to walk, but she had time to kill.

At the station, Hermione pulled a 'Help Wanted' flyer off the front door and went into the small building. A fragile woman sat behind a desk reading a well-worn paper back. "Excuse me ma'am. I noticed your flyer, what type of position are you hiring for?"

The woman looked quickly up from her reading, a smile gracing her wrinkled features. "Hello dearie, we're getting a set of computers in next week. And we need someone who's going to catalogue all the books and put them in the system. We've been doing it by hand for as long as we've been open. But the town has donated money to help us update. Are you interested in the position?"

Coincidence was a funny thing; Hermione had needed a job at the same time the library needed a young woman with the capability to pull it out of the Stone Age. Luck was on her side today. "Yes ma'am. I'm new to town and I'm afraid that I don't have any references but…"

The lady cut in. "Yes, I know who you are now. You're Hermione, is that right? You've moved in with that sweet boy, Draco?" News sure does travel fast in a small town.

"Yes ma'am."

"No need for references, we're all friends here. Let me show you around the place." The lady stood strong on her feet with only a slight curve to her back. She showed Hermione around the store, pointing out the different sections and explaining which areas she hoped to expand in the near future.

The library was by no means large, but it was cozy and decently stocked.

"The computers will be here soon, but in the meantime perhaps you could get started by putting barcodes on the books. I'll show you were they are." The woman, Hanna as she had later informed her, hadn't exactly told her she had been hired. But she definitely put her to work. Leading her back to the front desk and pulling a roll of differently numbered bar codes out of a drawer, she showed Hermione how and where to place the stickers. Hanna eventually left Hermione to her own devices and it was several hours later before she noticed the time.

Draco had definitely made it home by now, and she wondered whether he noticed she was missing.

"Bout time you decide to take a break." The smooth voice was one she recognized immediately.

"How long have you been standing there watching me?" Draco was sitting at a nearby table with a thick book in his hand. Hermione could sense the thin veil of a glamor hiding its true content and title from any curious eyes. Draco only smirked at her. "Seems like you do quite a bit of stalking, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco's mouth drew even tighter, but she could see the mirth in his eyes. "If being around you equates to stalking, then I don't plan on quitting anytime soon."

She could feel the blush building on her face, and she tilted her head down in order to hide behind her hair.

"Come on, let's go home. Hanna's already left." Draco stood and held out his hand to her, she didn't miss that he'd called his house 'home'. Not 'his home'. She was included as belonging to it.

Standing, she gently placed the book she had just finished labeling on the shelf and went to the desk to put the roll of bar codes back in the drawer.

Taking Draco's hand, which he still had stubbornly stuck out in the air waiting on her, they left locking the door behind them.

…

(Six Months Later)

Their relationship didn't move fast, at least not in a physical sense. Other than a few kisses here and there, and one magnificent make out session on Draco's birthday, they kept things simple.

Hermione loved the way she could talk with Draco, express her every thought and emotion with him, and he'd just sit there giving his full attention to her. With Harry, it had been hard to express herself completely. He'd been right there with her through most of her experiences, and if her opinion didn't match up with the exact way he saw the situation they'd fight for hours trying to decide who was right.

Draco just listened. He gave insight into her life through perspectives that she'd never known existed. For most of his life, he'd been on the other side of the War lines. He had firsthand knowledge on the situations that caused her so much grief. He taught her that there was always another side, and neither was ever a hundred percent virtuous. Though they both agreed that Voldemort's downfall had been late in coming.

Hermione showed Draco what it was like to have someone listen to him, and value his worth. Sure, he had made knew friends in this world he fought to belong to; but he couldn't be himself around him. Hermione accepted his mistakes and didn't push him away for making them. She trusted him; even after he'd poured the darkest parts of his should before her very feet.

**-Flash Back-**

"_Draco, what's bothering you?" Her amber eyes stared deep into the silver depth of his, begging him to let her in. "I want to know what's bothering you."_

"_Sometimes, it's best to keep some memories to yourself, Hermione."_

"_Whoever told you that? If their bothering them, you should share them." He smiled at her, she was always ready to hear whatever it was he had to say, but this time he was afraid that it might be too much._

"_I could have stopped them." He watched as her delicate brow knitted together. He could tell she was confused._

"_Stopped who?" She didn't waste time guessing at the possibilities. That's one thing he loved about her, she wasn't afraid to ask questions. She'd rather look a fool by asking the wrong question, than is an idiot by coming to the wrong conclusion._

"_I could have stopped Severus from killing Dumbledore. I could have prevented his death." Usually, when she was told something that she understood, he could see the light come on in her eyes. It was as if a light came on inside her mind as it grasped the issue. He didn't notice any change on her face._

"_Professor Snape was under an unbreakable vow. He was obligated to" She stumbled over her words here; it was obvious that the subject was tough for her too. "kill Dumbledore. The only way Dumbledore could have lived that night, was if you killed Professor Snape. And if you did that, then you'd be dead too."_

"_It should have been me that died, and Severus would have gladly accepted my wand tip if it had meant the man who'd been more a father to him than his would have lived."_

"_Dumbledore was dying." Now it was Draco's time to look confused._

"_What do you mean?"_

"_He'd been poisoned by one of the Horcrux's Voldemort had created. His hand. Don't you remember his hand?" She searched his face for some hint of recognition, seeing none she continued. "His whole body was shutting down. He would have died eventually. He chose to spare you, from bloodying your hands with his murder, by succumbing to his fate early. He was protecting you."_

_Draco had disappeared immediately after his inability to cast the Dark curse to end the man's life. He had no idea that Dumbledore had been dying, but that didn't change the facts. "I still could have saved him, however long he had left to live. I should have stopped it. And now they're both dead, because of me." _

_She was silent for a long time before forcing his head up to meet his eye, "Everyone had to make sacrifices during the War. Everyone. Dumbledore sacrificed a few weeks of his life in order to protect you, and you know he'd do it again if ever given the chance. You're a powerful Wizard, but you were just a boy then. If you had taken your wand out on Professor Snape, you would have been bound and gagged and hidden being a tapestry until it was safe for you to come out again." _

_Malfoy's did not cry, but the torment Draco felt inside his chest over the guilt of all the lives he'd ruined had him suffocating inside. "Draco, you have to let it go." He felt her warm arms slide around his body as the ice surrounding his should began to melt, dripping out of his eyes and causes his body to shake with tremors. The way she held him, made him feel as though he belonged. And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would never let her go._

**-End Flash Back-**

They had grown comfortable in the lives they led; each one off to work in the morning, and returning home in the evening to a wonderful meal cooked by Briar. They remembered the past, they talked about the present, and they discussed their future; but they never seemed to broach the subject of returning to the Magical World.

Hermione was worried about Harry's reaction to her new found relationship with Draco. Relationship with Draco?

"Draco?" Hermione looked up from the book she was reading, and Draco met her eye from the table where he had papers spread everywhere.

"Yes?" His voice was suspicious, he could always tell when she was about to ask something she was uncomfortable about.

"What exactly are we doing here?"

His brow furrowed, "Well, I suppose we're hiding."

She frowned at him, "No, I know we are. But, what are we."

"You, Hermione, are a witch. And I am a Wizard. A man and a woman." She could tell he didn't understand her question, but she was embarrassed to elaborate.

"That's not what I mean." Her face was pink in embarrassment.

"Then what is it that you mean?"

"I mean," She didn't want to get into a mushy conversation with him, but she needed to know. She'd never been in a real relationship before. She didn't know how one went about being a 'girlfriend'. But, she did know that whenever Draco kissed her, she always wanted more. "What are _we_?" She stressed the last syllable, hopping that he'd catch on.

His eyes widened slightly, and she knew he had understood. "Oh, uhm. What do you want us to be?"

The sneaky Slytherin was avoiding a straight answer, she hated when he did that. "That's not what I asked, I know what I want, Draco. What I don't know is what we are."

His mouth thinned into a perfect line and he refused to meet her eye, "I guess we…"

The sound of tapping at the window stalled his voice and they both turned towards the sound. An owl was fluttering against their window, and both their blood went cold. They'd been found.

* * *

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
_So how about you spend some time… Please, just review._


End file.
